When he shut his eyes to sleep he shutout that 

that surrounded him

not that that

was that bad

                                                                                                                                      

or misfortunate

his eyes were triggers he pulled to cut himself off

and plunge into a sensory deprivation which  to this day  he credited not so much himself but

the nine members of his family

he grew up in a small wood-clad two-storey house  a bath and a half between everyone

and the bathrooms were the only place to find refuge from the family  or a stick of privacy

one needs tricks to make everyone else disappear when they are bluntly and tenaciously surrounded

                                

                                                                                            deftly  it went black inside his head

but not entirely black

 

he always spied its hesitant deference

                                                                               

somewhere inside his skull the slightest tinge of charcoal entered

and as he watched his darkness

he saw black floes turning and twisting like smoke tongues tiedye or strange filaments

and these introduced blacknesses marbled on each other

forcing his tinted-black blacker  blacker      until

for what seemed like minutes dangling end on end  the inside his head became blacker than

any black he could imagine

                                                even blacker than the dank brickwall basement

of the house he grew up in

an old farmhouse built when once the land ran from it in all directions for untold acres

then the property was sold

and it became fitfully entrenched amid a young neighborhood and empty lots called prairie

at the houses heart  in its deep basement  stood a blackened furnace  and radiating out from it

in grisly ways like Medusa hair or writhing tentacles ran round tarnished ductwork

when heating the house the furnace shrieked

it was uncomfortable to be in  when the heat kicked on

 

and while the furnace waited to be used   it ticked  ticked     ticked  intermittently

                      

intermittently

                   until suddenly Shrieking

a roughpoured and slovenly worked concrete floor ran across its basement

as a chore his father created for him  he painted it gunship gray

and under the furnace  dull  and queerly  its flickering yellowedblue pilot light reflected

but only directly beneath it

youd have to get down on your belly to look to see it if you wanted

there wasnt a neighborhood kid before him who dared  who had the guts to crawl under it

when it cried

once was enough

while he inched his way under it  snagged by the floor and furnaces odd tines and metal burrs  his kid brother  as a joke  because everything was funny to him when he did them to others  he unexpectedly killed all the lights in the basement  which at best refracted into him

with his eyes wide open and blind he heard all the other kids footsteps hurry frightenedly and bang retreat up the heavy wooden basement stairs  up into the hall  

and then out through the front door

house rules  all kids were to come and go through the back door

tick

        tick

                                 tick

                             like some absurd countdown to what he was assured was his oblivion

then at sudden it Shrieked

 

when the Oblivion faltered  failed   

he found it hard not to think that immortality might be within his grasp

                                                                                                                     and he grabbed

thereafter he threw himself at everything  bounced or broke off it  or hurtled himself through it

his parents wondered what had got into him  if he had a deathwish  and they desperately cautioned him to be careful 

                                            Look!  before he leapt

Look!  for what

whats next will be

that was his illogical  they thought and not that he knew it  Conclusion

whats next will Be

Immortal  

what was to stop him

not the small citys ribbed sewers  he was prescient now in their darkness  a loosened bubble finding its surface and while their Byzantine runs and mazes fell to a side gasping    

he disappeared in their vapors

not the dark Forest Preserves rattling  or the black river water running under a thin skin of ice

that split their parcel in two

and not the Authority

who fiercely claimed its Laws  then ferociously abused them

Authority rained billyclubs on top of him when he played by their rules

a judge interceded

he said he liked his spunk  and he offered him a once-in-a-lifetime Get Out of Jail card

to beat back the four tall walls the kennels and chained dog runs

--   Get Out of Jail  FREE  card  he asked

--   You know aint nothing free

Doncha      boy

                            boy      he supposed Authority  --  give em an inch and theyll torture it

into a mile  --  knew no bounds to its jurisprudence  or just desserts

                                                                                                              boy      talking down to him  provoking him

--   I had to ask Judge

I hope you can appreciate my sincerity

his Get Out of Jail card                                                                                          

                                       --   Be assured  You will be found guilty   commuted his sentence

for the wet green gauze of Southeast Asia

whats next will Be

he ducked Authority in Nam  became a tunnel rat   no it wouldnt follow him there   nonobviously
appealing to his woundtight sensibilities   and as odd that that might be to everyone around him

whats next will Be

after two tours he returned home  to be resituated

which was shit

whats next will Be

and hes Be-en   ever since

this sensory deprivation of his

while perhaps an untoward gift  and not tolerated well by even those who said they loved him who grumbled about having to get up and cross a room to bump his elbow or shoulder to garner his attention rather than suffer being blatantly unheard when they tried to call his name or address him unexpectedly

and the while          

                       they were all mindful

that the solitary reason he might even be there  irritating them now  was because of his deliberate sensory deprivation

            

2238,  Sunday,  28  12. 14

1343,  Tuesday,  30  12. 14